


One Color

by 50shadesofNico



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Brothers, Christmas, Family Issues, Legends, Light Angst, Lore - Freeform, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Offensive, Slurs, Snow, Swearing, cabin in the woods trope, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50shadesofNico/pseuds/50shadesofNico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family hopes their annual Christmas getaway will provide some comfort and good feelings after the loss of their daughter. Two brothers try to make sense of what happened to their sister, but the disagreements between them make things a bit difficult.  The details of her death are still unclear, and there's something in the woods that could possibly be the culprit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Color

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original story based around the Krampus lore. I don't take any credit for Krampus and his history/story. All other characters in this story are original. 
> 
> This work contains sensitive content, but putting the warnings on this would spoil a lot. If you cannot handle sensitive content, please consider if you really want to read this or not.
> 
> There is offensive language and discriminate language in this. As the author, I do not agree with the discrimination and the mocking of others; but said content is in the story for characterization of the fictional character (to which the other characters scold him about).
> 
> Since this is an original work, I am really interested to know your thoughts/comments on it, good or bad. I would like to know at what point you clicked out of reading this if so, too. I promise I won't be mad! c:
> 
> -*ETA* 12/3. So apparently there is a side-character named Derek/Darek in the "Krampus" movie. I wrote this before knowing, as I wanted to use a German name. This story is in no relation to that movie's story/universe.

        Red and green: the color of the season. The green bristles of the pine tree fell into the red decorating over the snow. The thorns pierced with anguish. Red and green, they were the last two colors she saw. Everything else that was once bright and vibrant became dim as the world dissolved. Her life was dissolving. She had a choice of seeing the green pines that fell over her or the red blood pooling around her.    
         _'Hadn't I always been a good girl?'_ the last of her thoughts cried. _'Things like this don't happen to good girls . . . so why me?'  
_         Everyone always said that winter was the season of death. And on the last day of her life, she'd finally understand it all too well. Even if she acknowledged her childish innocence, it still wasn't good enough for him. She was too naughty for his liking. Even though she had been warned to play nice and to not say mean things, her behavior still wasn't acceptable. He came in the night, took her out, slaughtered her, and gave her soul to the devil.    
   
        “We're supposed to enjoy Christmas.” The plates clang softly to the table as dinner finished being prepared. “. . . Everyone is supposed to enjoy Christmas.”   
        “Except if you're Jewish.”   
        “Stop it,” the words lacked expression. The leer that Garren gave his son could barely be considered a glare.    
        “What—I thought we wanted to laugh and have a good time.” Jett rolled his eyes away from his father.   
        “That's not funny.”   
         Darek passed his brother the dinner rolls. “Poor taste, and it was too easy of a 'joke'.”   
        “Not to mention, insensitive,” just like her husband, Helen's tone lacked light.   
        “Do you see any of us on the Internet right now?” Jett stabbed his fork in a slice of ham, sloppily plopping it on his plate, “No need to be politically correct if we're offline.”   
        “Stop it--” Their father scolded again.    
        “God damn, Jett--” Darek grabbed a handful of napkins and hastily wiped up droplets of oil from the ham that had splattered on the table, “Be careful, will you. Don't make such a mess.”   
        “God, what the fuck--” Jett slapped a scoop of mashed potatoes for himself, “Mom, you wanna' yell at me too right now? What about you, Ethan?” Jett looked over to his boyfriend, waiting for a comment from him. Ethan was just staring down at an empty plate though. He was cute with nice short hair that curtained the sides of his face, but it needed a good brushing. The sullen look the boy had made took away a natural charm he could have had.   
        “Well maybe if you behaved better, then we wouldn't have to bother you all the time,” Helen gently poured herself a glass of wine from a half-empty bottle.    
        “Maybe if you give me some wine, my god damn winter stress won't be so bad and then we can all shut the hell up.” Jett watched with resentment as his mother offered some of the alcohol to his brother.    
        “You're too young.” Helen sighed.   
        “And!? Darek just turned 18! He's only two years older than me! I thought the drinking age was 21--”           
        “Jett--” Helen pulled back the wine when Darek denied it, “how many times—we follow the tradition from our culture to let the kids have a little dinner wine, but you--”   
        “That was ONE time! And--”   
        “Stop it--!” the plates clang roughly against the table as Garren pounded his fist on the wood. “Let’s just say grace and eat in peace.”   
        “Dad's right . . .” Darek stared down at his dish with a face that tears would find easily, “How can we even be talking like this when--”   
        “Darek, do you want to say grace?” Helen placed a hand on her son's shoulder.    
        He nodded, “Heavenly father, thank you for this meal we are about to receive. We humbly ask that you watch over us all with the Holy Spirit. Amen.”   
        Everyone blessed themselves except for Jett and Ethan. His mother seemed to sigh more than she breathed, “I can't wait until you're out of this rebellious phase.”           
        The sound of plates clanging chimed once again. Jett's fist had mirrored the way his father punched the wood just a minute ago. “It's not a phase!”   
        “Yeah, that's what they all sa--” Helen bit back her words. She had expected to see Darek crying with the way his eyes had been so glossy, but Jett had water sliding down his cheeks instead.   
        “It's not a phase! This is going to last forever! She's never coming back! When people die, they stay dead, mom!”   
        All the food seemed rotten. There was a toxic heaviness that hung over the table, making Christmas dinner a most unappealing sight. As Jett's silent tears stopped, Helen's loud ones started.    
        A chair scraped against the floor. Garren went over to his wife, she instantly embraced him. “Did you have to say that--,” Garren targeted Jett with his stare, “you made her cry!”   
        “Actually, yeah—I did have to say that. You fucks are all ignoring what happened as if Jaden never existed! She was part of our family and--” Jett's voice cracked as he had to swallow back more sobs. “You all . . . you all just want to pretend like nothing happened and go on to have Christmas-fucking-dinner over ham and wine—Well fuck you all! If Jaden can't have Christmas dinner, then I won't either!”    
        A chair scraped against the floor again. It was followed by a bang as it fell over with how harshly Jett stood up. “Can't wait to see what I get blessed with from Santa this year— Really excited to see which next family member I'll find slaughtered in my stocking--!” He took hold of Ethan's hand and tugged him away from the table with him.   
        The food went as cold as the snow that night.    
        Jaden Burgstaller's body found sleep within her death; but in return, sleep had ignored the rest of her family.            
        The moon had gotten so boring to look at. It was something once mystical and beautiful, but without a counterpart to watch over upon the earth, it was nothing more than a rock. Jett tried to study each uneven bump that his mattress made to find a position that would provide some comfort, but every equation failed. He attempted to admire the way his boyfriend's body looked with the sheet draped over him, but that didn't work either.    
        All Jett could think about was how bothered Ethan looked at dinner. He had to convince him so hard to come on this trip with him. He said he wouldn't feel right being there with him, because it was a family thing for Jett, and especially after what happened. Still, Jett had eventually convinced him to go. Now he contemplated if that was a good move or not if it meant that Ethan was going to be mopey-dopy the whole time.            
        There were three soft knocks on the door, and Jett watched his brother enter. He sat up and rubbed the non-existent sleep from his eyes to try and hide the way he was ogling Ethan. Jett didn't want him staring at him too. Lately there was a weird feeling Jett got whenever Ethan and Darek were in the same room. He noticed that Ethan started to look at Darek more than him, and the Aries in Jett didn't like that.  The idea that Ethan my like his brother more than him was threatening to Jett. He viewed his older brother as being the more attractive one with his clean crew cut and tan toned skin. Meanwhile, Jett was pale, too thin, covered in piercings, and had unnatural green color hair that covered half his face like the old-story emo boy that he is.

        As Darek came closer, Jett looked for tears over his face. He had the same sullen expression over him since he had stormed out during dinner. But his eyes remained dry. “How are you doing?”  
        “Not going to yell at me for rudely leaving dinner like that? Do you actually care how I feel?”   
        “Yes, I do.”   
        “Why?”   
        “Because you saw it too. But I want to know, what it was you exactly saw.”   
        The blankets that Jett had wrapped around himself suddenly felt like sheets of piercing ice. His whole body stiffened, and it took him a while to find his voice. He tried to read his brother's demeanor, but his tiredness made it challenging. The sound of the wood creaking from beneath Darek’s feet almost hurt Jett’s body as a physical force, “I don't . . . kn--”   
        “Yes you do. Tell me.”   
        “It was . . . an animal of some kind.”   
        Darek moved closer to his brother's bed.    
        Jett squeezed the sheets. “Furry  . . . maybe a bear—shit, anything could be in these woods, ya' know? Horns . . . hooves . . . maybe a wild moose or some shit.”   
        “So was it a bear or a moose that killed her?”   
        “C'mon man, don't make me remember it . . . the shock still hasn't--”   
        “Please, Jett,” Darek slowly took his hand into his, “I want to know what I saw too . . .”   
        “A bear-moose? I don't know, everything was sort of blurry. The only thing that is clear to me is all that red . . . the way she was thrown, I--”   
        “It was mysterious . . .”   
        “There's no such things as monsters . . .”   
        “Then what was that thing that killed Jaden!?”   
        “I don't fucking know!! I--” Jett's breath was cut off when Darek cupped his hand over his mouth.    
        “Shh . . . don't wake mom and dad. You're being too loud.”   
        The two of them stayed posed like that for a moment longer: one of Darek's hands over Jett's, the other his mouth. Despite his brother there though, Jett's eyes stayed on the door. The brightness from the hallway's dim light hurt his eyes. Jett felt like he was 7 again. He wasn't sure if the memories that played within his head were fond or not. They had been coming to this cabin every December for a _lovely_ month long get-away in honor of Christmas. His mother and father would tell him, his brother, and sister to go to bed so early every night (probably so his parents could fuck).    
        The three of them would all meet in Jett's room after Helen and Garren had assumed them to be asleep. Jaden and Darek would try to keep their laughing muffled while they played a game or two. Every time they thought they heard a door creak they would freeze and place their hands over their mouths while staring intently, intensely at the door.   
        Maybe the flashback would have brought warm nostalgia, but it just made him feel like cold shit. It was like taking razor blades to both his eyes and heart every time he thought about Jaden. Her death was too fresh in order to be smiling at thoughts of her.    
        With the passing seconds, Jett felt his temperature continuing to decline.  The shudder that shook him brought him away from the past, realizing it was the chill of the air touching his lips and hand that was making him colder. Darek had stepped back to the door.    
        “Goodnight,” his brother whispered.    
        Jett gave a nod and rolled over in his bed. _'Did that happen?'_ His eyes matched the amber color of the wooden walls, and just like the trees they had come from, he felt dead under those covers. Ever since Jaden's last smile, Jett felt like he was questioning if every breath he exhaled was real or not. It felt so surreal to lose a loved one, and to now be thinking about a demon that both he and his brother witnessed butchering their sister? How cliché would it be for him to wonder if he was stuck in an endless dream . . . It was the only conclusion Jett could pacify himself with.    
        3 a.m., the hour of the devil. The past few days it felt as if guardian angels were missing. A lot of things were missing, and the comfort of slumber was part of that.  
        The digital clock's red type that now read 3:01 a.m. burned his retinas. The snowflakes falling outside were silent. He could barely hear the breathing of Ethan beside him, yet something had startled him awake. _'Nerves?'_    
        The noise that emitted from downstairs was baffling. At first he thought someone was pulling the chairs out from the table, but it didn't match up to the skidding he caused in storming out of the kitchen before. _'Metal?'_ It wasn't wood scratching the floor. It was steel. Chains.   
        Like using a flip book with each page being a different picture, different thoughts flipped through Jett's head to answer what several chains dragging over the ground could be. At first he thought maybe his father was pulling in a different Christmas tree, but they used rope—and not at three-in-the-fucking-morning.    
        The urgency came to wake up his parents, but what if this was a robber or some serial killer? His parents would be too pussy to do anything.    
        With a hurried upswing, Jett got out of his bed and went over to the pile of clothes on the floor. He dug through his dirty jeans and grabbed his pocket knife. The blade flicked out as he stepped out of his room.    
        With the friction of the chains, the echo of his footsteps on the stairs were drowned out. Breathing was anguish for Jett's lungs. His chest was tight. The tips of his fingers ran cold. His feet wrapped in cement. Acid stirred in his stomach. Pain punched his head. No amount of saliva would moisten his tongue.    
        Jett wondered if he had been dreaming or not earlier, and now he really hoped so at what he saw.    
        The intruder snarled within his breath. The fur on his chest was puffed in warning. Claws replaced his fingers. One foot was a hoof, the other a panther's paw. A belt circled around his stomach that attached to a wicker basket on his back. Four foot long pointed horns protruded from his head. His tongue the length of his body as it hung down.    
        The terror that attacked Jett as he stared at this ten-foot beast was too strong to make this anything but reality.    
        Shock made Jett drop his pocket knife. The clang of it falling could have been silence compared to the rattling of the chains the creature wore. A pocket knife would be nothing more than a scratch to it.    
        Jett may have cursed, but he couldn't hear his voice under the growl of the creature. The table and chairs fell over with Jett as the chains swung at him. Was the snapping the sound of the chair legs breaking or his bones? The chain smacked him. The red of his blood mixed with the copper color of the rust on the links. The sting was heavy and lingering.    
        A crying groan could only be half expelled from Jett when the weight over him became excruciating. It stomped its hoof down on his torso. It was wet. The liquid seeped into the fabric of Jett's pajamas. His sight had gone blurry with the rest of his senses from the impacts, but the memory of the blood of his sister was still clear to him. There was no mistaking that the liquid on the creature's hoof was not from melted snow, but that of a red substance.    
        Another stomp. Another. Each crush tore away the strength of Jett's body. The ground became harder against his spine.    
        “Jett!” the growling from the demon was interrupted.   
        It was agony for him to even turn his head to see his brother standing in the door frame. The yell of his name was the only thing that Jett could make out clearly. It felt as if he were underwater, struggling to hear someone talk to him within bubbles while being denied of air. Whatever Darek was screaming toward them, the beast ignored. The red in the eyes of it was just as crimson as the blood on its hoof. Even with affliction turning his vision foggy, Jett could see that there was only one narration in the color red. And it said, execution.    
        Everything had turned white. _'Is this it? Is this the white light everyone talks about?'_ Death was freezing.    
        “Lets go! LETS GO!!” each word was louder as the noise of the stomping became lower.    
        More red. _'A fire extinguisher?'_ Jett tried to process what he was looking at, but everything was moving further away from him. A string of pain down his arm instead of in his torso made him comprehend that yes, that it was a fire extinguisher he was looking at. The white had not been from a light, but from that, and there was the demon licking its own eyes in trying to rid of being sprayed. Then the feel of his brother's hand—Darek was trying to pull him back.    
        Jett's body squirmed about as he tried to bring himself to his feet.    
         _THUD._  
        Had he taken Darek down to the floor with him, or was that the sound of the beast's hoof? Jett tried to look around—for any answer—for anything that could provide him with some sort of weapon or cover. Colors merged together with the way it seemed like the room was spinning. Sweat smeared against his skin, but it was not his own. Darek had managed to pick him up and set him on his feet somehow, his body leaning against his. He had said something else to him, but all that Jett could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other to get out of there. Where was _there_ though? The dining room? This cabin? These woods? What about his parents and boyfriend?    
        “D-Darek—mom, dad? Ethan?” Jett panted the four names.    
        “Upstairs still--”   
        “We have to . . .”   
        A debauched gallop mixed with claws grating the floor over ran the rest of Jett's words. The chains tore the wallpaper and railing apart. The beast sprinted from the dining room after them.            
        The beast whipped one of its chains back only to lash it forward to try and hit one of the boys. Darek went down with breaths just as uneven as his fall was down the stairs.    
        “DAREK!!” Jet turned to reach after his brother. He turned so abruptly his ankle had twisted, but it could have been his whole body with how sharp the twist was. Jett tumbled down on Derek. The two of them groaned, but their noises were nothing compared to the growling and breathing of the creature over them.    
        Jett tried to regain his composure, but he just kept slipping over his brother. “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuu--,” something wet and thick had fallen on top of his head—several drops after another. It made his bangs stick to his forehead.    
        His whole body shook with fear as he turned his head to look up. Another drop. A strain of saliva from the monster's tongue plunged over his right eye. The thing was two inches above him. Its stillness contrasting with Jett's trembling. The heat of its breath over his skin could have melted all the snow within the mountains.    
        Desperately Jett wanted to plead with it, but would it even understand? _‘What do you want? Please don't kill me._ ’ Its eyes were so beady and red, changing from round pupils to rectangles like a goat's.    
        Their breaths mixed with one another as it drew closer. Darek tried to push Jett off of him, which was only sliding him closer to the demon. “D-D-Darek—st-stop--” Jett swallowed. “Dar—kh--” He couldn't process if it was the sweltering dryness within his throat that kept him from speaking or the soaked, slimy, snake-like tongue that was slowly wrapping around his neck.    
        Two doors slammed open at once. A flood of frigid air came in through the cabin's entrance as the creature ran out. Jett hastily attempted to brush the saliva off his neck, but his hand’s wiping was more confirmation that he was able to breathe again.    
        “Jett--” Darek squirmed from under him.    
        Shuffling to the side, Jett wobbly helped pull Darek into a sit on the half-broken stairs. “What-”   
        “What happened!?” Their mother's voice called down from the top of the stairs.    
        Their father was soon to join her. “What did you kids do!?”   
        Jett and Darek could only look at one another. Jett's lip twitched but he failed to speak.    
        Darek stared at him for a moment longer and then looked back up at his parents. “Something got inside.”    
        “Are you okay?” Garren tried to make his way down around the ruined steps.    
        “Yes . . .” Darek rubbed his forehead, trying to rid of the blood.    
        “NO!” Jett's face was completely void of any color. “It was a fucking demon!! Claws—horns, hoof, chains, a tongue longer than everything in the god damn world!!”    
        “What?” Helen studied the injuries on her boys from above.    
        “Jett was just scared,” Darek shook his head, “It was a bear or moose with rabies or something.”   
        “I'm telling you--!” Jett pushed his father's hand away and sloppily got to his feet. “It was a monster! It had a hamper on its back or something and--”   
        “Krampus.” Helen stated, “You're describing Krampus, Jett.” A half-smirk played on her face. Maybe she would have laughed if she weren't looking at her sons covered in scratches and blood.    
        “What the fuck is--”   
        “This is why we don't give you wine at dinner, Jett. You don't pay proper attention to our family's customs. Grandpa told you about Krampus almost every Christmas at our dinner before he passed.”    
        “Are you seriously fucking scolding me when my back is broken!?”   
        “You're back is not broken.” Garren rolled his eyes.    
        “I almost DIED and you two are--”   
        “We're tired,” Garren replied. “Get cleaned up. There's a first-aid kit under the sink. “I'll call patrol and tell them to go look for a rabid animal. Did either of you get bit?”   
        “No . . .” Darek mumbled.   
        “. . . No--” Jett inspected his arms.    
        “All right. Go bathe and then get back to bed.” Their father kissed them both on the head.   
   
        A heavy silence lingered between Jett and Darek in the bathroom. Darek started to spray antiseptic over his brother's cuts and scratches, but Jett wouldn't have it for too long. Roughly, he grabbed the bottle out of Darek's hand and continued to treat himself.    
        A sigh emitted from Darek as he gave a narrow leer at Jett, probably unhappy at how his kindness was denied. The tub’s faucet was loud as he turned it on. “Take a bath.”   
        “ . . . So aren't you going to fucking tell me?”   
        “What?” Darek unrolled the bandages.   
        “About cream puff. Because obviously you're the good baby who pays attention to everything.”   
        “It's _Krampus._ It's just some dumb pagan-German story to scare kids.”   
        “Oh, really? Because that thing was pretty fucking scary—and this is me saying that, bro—The guy who listens to angsty goth music about vampires and shit.”    
        “Take a bath.”    
        “First tell me what the fuck we saw.”   
        “It was a rabid moose. You were just scared and--”   
        “SHUT UP!” Jett pointed to the light pink ring around his neck where the creature's tongue had been, “Do you think a moose has a tongue that could please a dyke!?”   
        “Stop it. You're being offensive, Je--”   
        “I was about to DIE and all you care about is me being offensive!? I want to know what the fuck we saw!!”   
        “Shh—lower your voice.”   
        “Then tell me!”   
        “I don't know what we saw, but it wasn't Krampus. It's a make-believe story.”   
        “Then tell me the make-believe story.”   
        “Take a bath and I will.”   
        “Urgh!” Jett threw off his soaked shirt. It made a 'slushy' noise as it hit the floor with how drenched it was from sweat mixed with saliva.    
        Darek wouldn't remove his eyes from his brother. He watched as Jett removed his clothes.    
        Jett's eyes bounced between the tub and his brother's green ones, “Stop staring.”   
        “I want to make sure you get in the bath. It's nothing I haven't seen before.”   
        “I'm not a kid anymore--”   
        “Just get in the bath.” Darek shoved a bottle of bubbles at Jett.    
        “Tell me about Krampus.” Jett was thankful his anger helped him ignore how the water stung his cuts.    
        “Krampus is Saint Nicholas' partner, in a sense. He comes on December 5th to take away the 'naughty' kids. Puts them in his basket and then decides what to do with them. Drown, eat, or tortures them in hell. Probably some other things too,” Darek shrugged.    
        “That's it?”   
        “Basically.”   
        “Lame.”   
        “There's something about sticks in there too . . . and chains. He uses them to whip the bad kids.”   
        “That thing whipped me!”   
        “Huh--”   
        “Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't notice those chains! They were loud as fuck. It whipped me, and that's how I fell on top of you.”   
        “You know, Jett, fear can warp reality a lot. Other things can do it too, too much stress, a death in the family . . .”   
        The lumbering silence was back. Jett turned his head away and stared at the tiled wall.             
        There was a soft knock on the door before it slowly opened, “Can I come in?” Ethan whispered.    
        “Good job, you woke your boyfriend up,” Darek leaned against the sink counter.   
        “Shut up.” Jett turned his head back, looking past his brother and to Ethan at the door. “What's up?”   
        “Nothing . . . just . . .” Ethan paused, his jaw locking tightly as he glanced to Darek and then back to Jett, “ . . . just wanted to make sure you are okay.”   
        " . . . No, I'm just covered in scratches, completely fine~" Jett poured water over his head to rinse some shampoo.    
        Again Ethan couldn't keep himself form looking at Darek.    
        “Hey--” Jett snapped, “I'm the shirtless one here.”   
        “Sorry . . .” Ethan took a step back. “Guess I'll just go back to bed.” He closed the door just as softly as he opened it.    
        Jett brought his sight back to his brother, “So it's okay to say that a monster attacked and killed Jaden, but not me?”   
        Darek turned his head to Jett so quickly, that Jett thought he would have broken it.    
        “Maybe you're right. I saw a bear . . . a moose . . . _an animal_ . . . kill her . . .,” he looked down into the water and it's silky red color thanks to his wounds, “that maybe my head was just fucking with me . . . Maybe I just fell down the stairs, for all I know . . .”   
           
        Normally Jett woke up to a cliché scent of breakfast every day while in the cabin. Not today. The getaway was not how it used to be this year at all. It was already disturbed by the absence of his sister, but that wasn't enough. Whatever forces of the universe decided that even the smallest details would be off too: no smell of eggs and bacon to wake up to.            
        Instead he woke up to the muffle voices of his parents downstairs. They were discussing how much it would cost to fix the damage the cabin had, and how they were going to afford it with having to still pay off Jaden's funeral. He heard something about just selling the cabin, and Jett hoped they would do so. He never wanted to come back here again.    
        “Did you sleep at all?” Ethan sat up in the bed.  
        “Not really, I don't know.”   
        “Sorry.”   
        “For what?”   
        “I don't know. Do you want to get up?”   
        Jett placed his hand over Ethan's, “Not yet.” He leaned himself into Ethan, attaching his lips to his. He pulled his hand down his body, directing Ethan to rub between his legs, “I think I need to feel better from last night,” Jett smirked against him.    
        Ethan's whole body stiffened. He allowed for his boyfriend to move his hand in the way he wanted. He tried to return the kiss that was given to him, but that was a challenge for him.            
        Lowly Jett muttered a noise into Ethan's mouth just before nipping at his lip. He lifted his hips a bit to ride into the motions he was creating with the other's hand, hoping this would encourage Ethan to continue the action on his own.    
        Ethan remained still. The frown was clear against his lips as it didn't take long for Jett to become displeased.    
        “You don't want to do anything?” Jett released his hand.   
        “No, not really.”   
        All the muscles in Jett's face tightened. His eyebrow gave a cringe, “I'm sure if I were my brother--”   
        “No--!”   
        “Then what is it!? Are you catholic or something? Your profile said you were atheist.”   
        “I'm not! I mean, I'm not catholic. I just . . . didn't sleep well.”   
        “Pfft, _who you tellin',_ ”   
        “Sorry. Can we just get some breakfast?”   
        “Probably gonna' have to wait till' eleven or something to order Chinese.”   
        “Left overs are fine.”   
        “Left overs are gross.” Jett yawned and got out of bed, trying to turn in a way to hide his still-lingering erection. It was strenuous to slip in to his skinny jeans. “Hey Ethan . . .”   
        “Yeah?”   
        “How do you feel about monsters. I mean, do you think they're real?”   
        “Huh . . . actually I do.”   
        Jett couldn't keep his eyes from drawing wide as he looked back at the other boy. “Wait, you're an atheist, but you believe in monsters?”   
        “Um, well it's more like th--”   
        Darek opened the bedroom door, “Dad wants you up.”    
        Jett glanced over to see his boyfriend's face bright red. He hoped it was because they were sharing the same thought of, _'damn, glad we ain't doing anything now.'_    
        Jett threw his pajamas at his brother's face, “Jesus, fucking knock.”   
        “Nothing I haven't seen before.”   
        “Ugh!” Jett ran over to the door and closed it in Darek's face. “I swear, he still treats me like I'm five!”   
        The room was silent. Jett stared at Ethan, waiting to hear at least an uncomfortable chuckle. Instead he just watched him getting changed while staring at the floor the whole while.    
        The doorknob in Jett's hand became colder by the second with the tighter he squeezed it, “I'll meet you downstairs. Be careful over the broken steps--” He tried to push the thoughts far away from his head of Ethan cheating on him with his brother. He always went to thinking the worse scenario possible. That was why he had brought that pocket knife with him last night. Despite that, it was still useless in the end.    
        The knife looked so pathetic on the floor. Jett stared down at it for a bit. Even if he got the best General Tso's Tofu later, he wouldn't be able to eat it with how his stomach felt. It seemed that even if he came prepared for the worst situation possible, sometimes there was still no winning over it. He may have gotten free from the beast somehow, from Krampus, but the damage was still done. That much was for sure with the mess those stairs had gotten in; with the mess his body had gotten in. It hurt so bad to bend down and pick up the pocket knight, but there was just something securing about having it on him—even if it was useless. White lies.    
        It was a Christmas blessing that his parents had not come across the knife yet. They would probably freak out if they had found it. Jett had the thing for a long time, and he had good mind to continue to keep the secret of it.    
        “Jett--,” Darek's voice made him jump a bit.    
        A frown curved his lips as he wasn't aware how long his brother may have been standing there or saying his name.    
        “Get Ethan and meet me in my truck.”  
        “Why?”   
        “Mom said to pick up some Chinese food for the day. They should be open by the time we get there.”   
        “Sure.” The sight of his brother walking out of the broken door made Jett's stomach knot tighten. The memory of that heavy breathing and the ravenous look into those eyes pricked at his brain. That thing was out there.   
        Hesitantly, Jett put on his beanie and went to step outside. The icy wind against his cheeks paused him. Reluctantly he examined the wallpaper. The scratches on it had no doubt been made by chains and claws. It couldn't have been fear that made him hallucinate . . .    
        His eyes followed the chafed paint path up the wall. The calendar. December 5th.    
        All the jackets fell to the floor as Jett fell against the coat rack. “F-fuck--” His brother would tell him this was a coincidence. If this wasn't however, he should be safe. Right? Krampus came on December 5th . . . that thing had invited itself in well after 12 a.m., and it had left now.    
        “Yo, Jett--” Darek gave him yet another jump as he poked his head back inside, “you coming?”   
        “Uh . . .”    
        “Hmn . . .” Darek gingerly helped Jett back up. “Maybe you should take something for this holiday stress? Go have a shot of wine. I won't tell mom and dad.”   
        Darek's face suddenly looked more tired than before. He gave a shrug and went back out into the snowfall.    
                It was a tight fit in the pickup truck. No back seats. Jett was sure to place himself in the middle between his brother and Ethan. “You okay to drive?” Jett seemed to be focusing on the bandage around his brother's head.   
        “I'm fine.”   
        “You fell down the stairs, dude.” Jett rebuked and then looked at Ethan looking out the window. His quietness made Jett fiddle with the strap of the seat belt. Why wasn't he asking what had happened last night? Did this guy really not give a shit about him? It was either that, or Ethan came from a really, really dysfunctional family where who-knows-what went on, that hearing all that shit with the cabin shaking was normal to him. If it was the former, Jett could sure see a break-up in the near future.    
        Twenty minutes into the ride, Ethan finally looked away from the window, “How much longer is it to the place? The snow's getting pretty bad.”   
        “It is . . .” Jett squinted past the windshield wipers. “Did mom know the weather today? She barely lets us go outside if it's snowing harder than a dusting.”   
        Darek switched the wipers to the next level, “I guess not. She was pretty distracted with your mess.”   
        “ _My_ mess? That was a fucking monsters that came in!”   
        “It's over now.” Darek stroked Jett's thigh in his apology.    
        The road was bumpy, Jett had to cling tightly the edge of the seat just to keep himself from feeling like a ping-pong ball between the two of them.    
        “Wait,” Ethan rolled down the window to force the snow off of it, “where are we?”    
        Jett leaned over to try and look out the window. Darek stopped the truck.    
        A frozen pond surrounded them. Jett swore his heart dropped to his feet. The reason why it had been so bumpy was because they had not been on a road at all, but rather driving over snow. “Dar . . . rek?”    
        “Damnit.” Darek took out his cell phone to bring the map up.    
        “You got fucking lost!?” Jett kicked his foot up at the dashboard.    
        “You know half the roads here look like forest paths. I made a wrong turn on one, just give me a second to try and get a signal.”   
        “Okay, but for fuck's sake, you didn't have to park on a fucking pond.”   
         _Click._ Ethan unbuckled his belt and opened the door.   
        Jett reached after him when Ethan had climbed out, “Where you going!?”   
        Ethan pulled his own cell out, “Sometimes you can get better reception outside a car.”   
        “Get the fuck back in here. You'll freeze your nuts off and--”   
        The ice cracked under the truck.   
        Jett yanked his brother's phone from his hands, “Shit shit shit, drive off here!?”   
        Darek wasn't moving. His body was completely still. His eyes were large with dread.    
        “Darek?” Jett slowly followed his brother's line of sight to the windshield.    
        The light of the day could not conceal what _it_ was. It wasn't a rabid bear or moose. It was Krampus, and it was staring them down on the hood of the truck.    
        Glass shattered over the two of them. The impact of the horns breaking through the windshield was so severe that shards went flying hard enough to slice at the cheeks and the fabric of their jackets.    
        “JETT!” Ethan called from outside.   
        With the windshield gone, Krampus thrusted his horns through again. Darek and Jett split to the opposite sides to avoid the horns impaling them.    
        “Get out!!” Darken pushed the driver's door open.    
        They threw themselves from the vehicle, both of them unable to land correctly and slipping on the ice.    
        Jett fell face first. A tooth slid from his mouth with a trail of blood behind it. Ethan started to run towards him, but he was halted by the truck being hauled in front of him. It descended from Krampus's toss upside down, starling Ethan to drop back.    
        “Ethan . . . Darek . . .” the tears seared Jett's cheeks as he crawled over the ice towards his brother.    
        Darek wasn't moving. He was on his back with the wound on his head re-opened to give him a crown of crimson.    
        Jett screamed with each pull towards his brother. Bone protruded from his leg, it scraping along the ice.    
        The sight of Darek became that of Krampus's goat hoof and panther foot as it jumped in front of him. Jett tried to look up, but the mixture of the snow, the thick puffs his breath made, and the pain denied him from seeing clearly. Then there was that familiar feeling: thick; wet. _Saliva._ It dripped down over him. Krampus wasn't done with him from last night. He was going to pick up right where he left off.    
        Jett lost his breath. Krampus enveloped his tongue around his neck and lifted him up from the pond. Jett coughed and gagged. His lungs begged to brethe.    
        “J-Jett . . .” Darek groaned himself into a sit.    
        Krampus's hoof clapped against the ice as he walked towards Darek, never releasing Jett from his tongue's hold. He carried him along at his side, his toes dragging as they just barely touched the pond.    
        “Darek---” Jett could hardly speak, “r-run!”   
        Krampus's hoofed foot kicked Darek back down. He untwisted the chains around his body, effortlessly raising one to whip down upon him. One lash. Two lashes. Three lashes. The metal links rained down on Darek as so did Jett's tears. Krampus kept the younger boy held by the neck, hovered in the air to watch his brother being beat.    
        Darek spat blood with each further swipe. The ice fractured around him with the force of the tip of the chain hitting it. “Stop it—STOP IT!” he cried. His body withered. His crying increased. All his ribs had been broken.    
        The next drive of the chain whip was slower. Jett sniffed in as he prayed to a god he didn't believe in, hoping the demon had a heart that could grow. Hope sparked when Krampus took a step back. How horrible hope was though, because it just made the disappointment that much worse.    
        Jett's knees hit the ice when Krampus had knelt. He jerked Darek's arms over his head and tied his wrists together with the chain. The same was done to his ankles.    
        Pieces of fabric joined the snowflakes in falling down. Krampus tore at Darek's jeans and boxers until he was fully exposed.    
        “Wh--” Jett squirmed. He wrapped his hands around the tongue, trying to yank and tug at it, but the saliva just made his hands slip. Krampus continued to ignore him with his attention on Darek.    
        The Christmas demon growled a sultry breath over Darek's penis. One rip. One rip and Krampus's claws were coated in red. One rip and Darek was wailing. One rip and his dick was gone. Darek's body went into convulsions. The chains rattled that were secured around him.   
        “Ahg--” Jet wanted to scream. He wanted to puke. His throat burned as he could feel the acid rising and being withheld from escaping due to the tightness around his neck. If Krampus's choke wasn't going to kill him, then suffocating on his own vomit would.    
        Krampus brought Jett closer to him, the bone sticking out from Jett's leg bent further back with the drag. They were nose to nose. Jett tried to look at it in the eyes to silently plead. The creature didn't seem to have any sympathy. Jett waited to feel those teeth sink into his brain.    
        Instead of being placed inside Krampus's mouth, something was placed inside Jett's mouth. The blood from Krampus's claws smeared over the boy's chin. He pushed his brother's detached cock into Jett's mouth.    
        Jett wanted to throw up even more now. _'Oh god, oh god--!'_ He'd never get rid of that taste for the rest of his life, but how long was that? Even with spitting the penis out, Jett still felt as if it were stuck in there. Krampus didn't just want to kill them, he wanted to torture them in manners that weren't even physical.    
        Darek had almost stopped twitching, which alarmed Jett. He had to do something! Somewhere he knew that if Darek stopped moving, then it was death.                    
        The rattling of the chains dominated all other noises. Krampus picked up Darek in his arms, staring down at him in the eyes. This wasn't a look of sorrow or comfort, but it was amusement to watch the life fading out of them.    
        Jett reached his arm out for his brother, but Krampus kept them in a distance. Gradually Krampus lifted his arms up as he still held Darek in them. It was as if he were making an offering to a god—and that god was himself.    
        The white snowflakes turned red. Blood poured down over Krampus and squirted against Jett. Organs and entrails squished and smashed as Darek slid down one of Krampus's horns. His body limp, dead, on top of Krampus's head. Darek's heart gave one last pump at the tip of the horn. Now Jett had Krampus's full attention.    
        Mucus ran from Jett's nose and bits of vomit gushed at the corner of his mouth. His screams and cries were wet between his coughs. In his head, he saying his brother's name, but all he could get out where noises that meant nothing. This was the second sibling he had to watch die in front of his eyes. Witnessing this would hurt more than whatever death Krampus had planned for him.    
        The world was fading in and out. The tongue enclosed around Jett's neck tightened to the point where he could no longer cough. That was it; he was out of air and the other horn was getting closer to his body. Krampus wanted a matching set. He was going to be impaled with it like a sword.    
        Maybe it was being reminded of a sword. Maybe it was seeing his brother getting his dick torn off, but Jett's last thought brought an idea. It brought hope back. In one prompt motion, Jett reached into his pocket, pulled out his knife, and sliced Krampus's tongue off.    
        A thud, a gasp, and a screech. Jett tried to get his breath back, holding his neck where the tongue had been. More blood showered him, but this time it was from Krampus. He watched as the beast writhed around in distress, making inhuman noises.    
        Rapidly Jett's eyes jumped over to the upside down truck and Ethan standing beside it. “E-Eth-an!!” he called in lugging himself with his arms, trying to use his non-broken leg to push himself forward.    
        Ethan paced a bit in short back and forth steps before finally deciding to run to Jett. He sprinted to the edge of the pond and locked his arms around Jet to remove him from the ice.    
        Without wasting time, they scampered for the truck. A loud thud with a crack made them look back. Krampus had slipped on his own blood; his tongue still pulsed out the liquid. Each time he dug his claws into the ice it cracked further.   
        “Sh-shit--” Jett backed himself up against Either a bit more.    
        With the scratch of the paw, the click of the hoof, the scrape of the claws and the dragging of the chain, the ice broke. Finally, there was something louder than Krampus. The water mixed with the blood on the ice. Krampus flailed in aiming to get out, but its chains just kept breaking the sounding ice. They caused more blocks of ice to split and tear, getting in the way of Krampus's space to try and swim.    
        Never had Jett heard such noises before as he watched the thing struggle. Maybe he would have enjoyed it if his brother weren't attached to the horn.    
        Krampus's movements became so erratic in his panic, that he had tangled himself within his own chains. All the thrashing became slower until the demon was rendered immobile in the binds of its chains.    
        Like a fucked up fairytale being lost through generations, Krampus disappeared out of sight. He was gone, and so was Darek.    
        No birds chirped, no wind blew, and no squirrels scurried in the trees. Everything was dead silent. 'Tis the season for death.    
        With a trembling hand, Jett put down his knife and searched in his opposite pocket for his phone. The screen was cracked.    
        “You . . . want to use mine?” Ethan offered his phone.    
        “Wh . . .” Lethargically Jett's eyes went from the phone up to Ethan's face. “WHAT THE FUCK!!”    
        Birds flapped into the sky, the wind blew, squirrels scurried away.    
        Jett tore himself away from Ethan's arms, “What the fuck-- why did you just stand there!! You just . . . you just stood there watching the whole time! Did you even call anyone!?”   
        “No . . .”   
        “Are you fucking retarded!?”   
        “Don't use that word.”   
        “SHUT UP! My brother is dead now too! I'm breaking up with you.”   
        “Good--” Ethan growled the single word. It was the most emotion Jett ever heard from him.   
        “. . . What?”   
        “You scare me, Jett-- Both you and your brother. I wanted to break up with you since I saw _it,_ but I was too scared to . . . didn't know what you would do to me.”   
        “What are you talking about . . .”   
        “You're disgusting. I know what you and your brother did. I saw it. Multiple times. Then I saw . . . .”   
        “You're not . . .”   
        “He was fucking your sister too, you know-- The difference is, is she didn't enjoy it.”   
        “Ethan . . .”   
        “How old was she? Ten? You may not have been the one to smash her head against the tree, but you're just as guilty. You held her in place for him.”   
        “I wasn't aware what I was doing!! He gave me some wine. He said I could have as much as I wanted. I didn't realize I had half the bottle and then . . . Fuck--”   
        “Blaming alcohol?”   
        “He drugged it or something!! I'm drinking, then I suddenly realize I'm out in the snow in the middle of ass-nowhere, holding my sister against a tree and . . .”   
        “And this?” Ethan brought up the gallery on his phone, swiping the pictures of Darek killing Jaden.    
        “Oh god--” Jett flung his hands up to his face. His sobs were louder than Krampus's dying roars.   “She was going to tell . . . and your brother knew. I wanted . . . I wanted to get evidence to turn the two of you in . . . I sure did, but . . .” Ethan's voice broke. He turned the phone off and put it back in his pocket, “I'm just as guilty as you too, I suppose. I watched her get killed and I didn't do anything. I was scared . . . After seeing that . . . I wish I had tried to protect her, even if it meant my own life. I don't want to live with seeing all this blood everywhere.” He stood up and looked past the truck towards the trail in the woods. “I do believe in monsters, and it's not that thing at the bottom of the pond.”   
        The world was silent and suspended again. Jet stopped crying but he kept his face buried. Ethan gave one last look to his ex-boyfriend and then headed into the woods.

 


End file.
